Prologue: The Last Dance

I peek out, the crowd awaits. I hear them holler and laugh and chatter at one another in their drunken revelry. My thighs are wet in anticipation, for I know this is my last performance.

The crackling speaker announces me, heralds me. Barely audible over the static. With this I walk on, the sound of whooping applause and lewd gazes wash over me, their barely restrained desires obvious and only spurring me. I give a smile and wink, dressed only in make-up and my peacock feather headdress. I am not like the other strippers, I am not like that cock tease Salome, forcing my audience to wait for seven veils to fall away to reveal my treasures. I display all proudly, shame long since lost on me since I encountered him.

I begin.

I move with a grace most can only envy, my body in perfect balance and harmony. The cheers and raucous laughter die, replaced with enraptured silence as the crowd watch, mesmerized. Never have they seen anything so adept as my performance before. I can almost sense their cocks growing erect as they stare in amazed wonder, my thighs only grow more wet. The music, some tacky and mundane thing that is currently in the charts, sounds tinny over the cheap speakers. Fortunately it is not that tune which I dance to.

I can see him in this reality now, albeit only as a vague shadow. He wanders amidst the crowd, playing his pan pipes with inhuman dexterity, a magnificent tune only I can hear. The tune sets me dancing, it seems criminal not to. For him I dance, for him I reduced myself to a shameless slattern, for him I damn myself to be his eternal whore. It’s his cock I long for the most. Tonight he comes to claim me at last.

The flayed one.

The Witch:

“Are you a witch or a prostitute?” I asked. I felt my rude question was justified, for the shopkeeper left little to the imagination. Book store owners are meant to look, well, bookish. Dressed in cardigans and wearing glasses and whatnot. This woman, though I grudgingly admit she was beautiful, wore a thin black lace dress that revealed nearly all, it contrasted well with her auburn hair.

She smiled at me, for some reason that made my heart skip a beat, “Was once a time when there was no difference.” She sighed, “Alas, how times have changed, and the true ways forgotten.” She put the book she was holding back on the shelf and came over to me, hips swaying, “I am Kilili, I am guessing you are not looking for specific literature since you have referred to my other…hobby.”

“My friend Michelle said you do spells on the side, that you gave her a love potion to win over Derek and it worked. Said she can hardly walk for the amount of times he’s been in her.” I was deliberately crude and petulant. Like many, I had wanted to believe in the supernatural, wanted to believe in those who offered metaphysical wonders, but my experience had only let me down and made me cynical. Still, also like many, I occasionally still reach out in the hope that maybe, just maybe, this time it could be real.

If only I knew how real.

“I see. So you seek to win over a specific someone? Give me a name.”

“Oh, well. There’s no one in particular, never has been really. How about something to give me wealth, or something that will bring a worthy man to me?” I had not really thought through my wants properly.

“Someone worthy?” she looked me up and down in a way that made me self-conscious, “Yes, you need something a tad more subtle than your friend. How about a spirit lover to guide you in your life? To reveal the truth of this world and more?”

I shrugged, still sceptical, “Sure.”

Kilili grinned, “Just a moment, I have something special for you.” She went to her desk and rummaged in a glass cabinet behind it. Despite myself I grew more and more allured as I watched Kilili. There was something otherworldly about her, something that brought about a strange longing in me. It made me both attracted to her whilst at the same time repulsed. Kilili gave a satisfied sound as she found what she was after and brought it over, “This ancient fellow was located on the Isole Tremiti a few years ago. An adoring client gifted it to me for my collection. I think it will serve you well. The paper here is a translation by myself from the slate found with it.”

I could not help but laugh when she held it up to me, it was a detailed onyx statue of some sort of satyr. A hairy man with horns displaying the most ridiculous erect phallus I had ever seen. If it were to scale then it would tear a woman in two. “I’m no expert but that’s got to be Roman. Had to study them once, Romans were mad about cocks.”

Kilili gave a musical laugh also, ” The statue is indeed Roman but he is far older. His name is Marsyas. Now listen carefully, for this is important. Take this statue and put him on a dedicated altar of some form, preferably in your sleeping chambers, keep him in view of your bed. Burn some incense, sandalwood and rose, as a welcoming. Next, memorize the devotion on this paper here, every morning and evening before you sleep, meditate upon the statue and then recite it without error. He will come and guide you. Oh, but here is the most important part, absolutely no masturbating!”

I felt my cheeks flush, “What?”

“You heard me, the more aroused you are the stronger the link between you and he. It will be hard at first, but in time your psyche and body will adapt to accommodate his presence.” She held the antique toward me, still smiling perversely, “You two will be most happy together, I know it.”

I shook my head, “I can’t afford this, besides, maybe it should be in a museum?”

“Oh I think you can.” Kilili put the paper and statue aside and looked me up and down again before holding out an elegant hand, “Your underwear, give it to me.”

I blushed again, “Sorry, but I’m not willing…”

“Just do as I say.”

Was the bitch after my body? Or was she trying to humiliate me? I was wearing my miniskirt, I had chosen it to catch the eyes of the guys at work, mostly just to be the center of attention. It had a habit of slipping upwards however, so walking home with no underwear would be an awkward affair. Not least so because they were now damp. Something about Kilili had set me tingling. Still, I found myself obeying, I slid my thong down, pulled it over my high heels and placed the small bit of pink fabric in Kilili’s hand, feeling incredibly exposed.

Kilili beamed at me and handed me the black statue and paper, “Payment has been received. Enjoy!”

“What?” I gasped, “An ancient relic for my thong, you serious?”

“I think it criminal for a beauty like you to be wearing anything, especially underwear.” The strange compliment sent a pleasant shiver through me. “Marsyas is a lucky spirit. Now off with you.” She winked at me then pointed to the door, before turning away back to the bookshelf, her payment still in her hand.

As I left the store and closed the door behind me, I thought I could hear Kilili laughing wickedly.

xxxxx

It had been an awkward walk home, between carrying the not unhefty statue and stopping my skirt riding up to my waist. I was acutely aware of the odd pedestrian casting a glance my way, getting an eyeful or wondering about the statue with the huge cock that I was holding.

I was glad to get up the stairs and into the shelter of my flat. Once I set the statue down I pulled my miniskirt off and threw it across the room, promising myself I would never wear the thing again.

Tired from work and deciding to perhaps think twice before taking Michelle’s advice in future, I went and ran a hot bath and gratefully eased myself into the water. I left the door to my living room open and from where I bathed I could see the obscene figure, smiling at me invitingly on the coffee table. I decided I would give it a go tonight. After enduring that slutty bookseller’s attentions I wanted to know if I had stumbled on something half real.

Once out of the bath I memorized the devotion as I ate my dinner, it was not overly long. To put it bluntly it was some flowery, poetic stanza that essentially invited the satyr Marsyas to come bang me. Once confident I knew the words, I burned some jasmine incense I had to hand. Not rose or sandalwood I know but I figured it would do. I placed the statue on my bedside cabinet. To meditate upon it I closed the curtains, turned out the lights and lit a few candles, creating a mystic ambience that helped set me in the right frame of mind.

Having done a few yoga classes, I sat cross legged on the floor, controlled my breathing and focused upon the statue. I admit, gazing at the hairy figure with goats legs set me tingling somewhat, not least because of the enormous member it displayed. Once I felt settled I recited the devotion and felt… nothing. I repeated it a few times but nothing remarkable or untoward occurred. I must have sat there for a good hour before finally giving up. I was slightly annoyed, but I reasoned it had only cost me my knickers and some pride.

Weary of an unsuccessful day, I retreated to bed.

The Descent:

I woke in a dark chamber, akin to some abandoned warehouse. A ventilation fan span slowly to one side in the wall. I single bulb barely lit the vast room.

I was naked upon a table of some kind, unable to move. My legs were frozen open, as if paralyzed, my hands were locked at my sides. There was no sound but I knew something was lurking in the dark corners of the space. Fear pricked me and I began to struggle, but could not will my body to move. To my horror I saw a tall figure approaching from the corner of my eye, emerging from the darkness like a predator emerging from its burrow. Clopping sounds echoed throughout, as though the stranger were wearing stilettos, or had hooves for feet.

He came into the light then, circling me until he was before my navel, my sex utterly revealed to him. I failed in my attempt to scream when I saw him fully, the statue made flesh! His face would have been handsome, if his skin did not sag as if barely clinging to his body. It made his lewd smile barely discernible. Horns sprouted from his head and he was all hair from the waist down, but what terrified me the most was his phallus was every bit as huge and erect as it was in stone. Terror engulfed me when I realized what he intended. I fought again to move with more vigor as he advanced.

I managed a feeble whimper when I felt the tip touch my labia. My traitorous body still did not move though, worse my vulva twitched in anticipation, as if it welcomed the monstrous thing. I felt his rough hands grasp my thighs.

With a grunt, he thrust.

His phallus plunged in, deep into my womb it went, then beyond, tearing through me.

xxxxx

I woke with a start.

I sat up in the darkness and fumbled for the lamp at my bedside. After several long seconds I found the switch and stung my eyes with sudden light. As I adjusted I realised I was in my bedroom, it had been a nightmare. The statue looked at me from my bedside, smiling menacingly. Groaning, I looked away and lay there.

I was acutely aware of how horny I was. Instinctively I felt my fingers explore myself lower down, then paused. I recalled the witch’s instructions. Masturbation was off the table if it was to work. Had that nightmare really been something more, first contact perhaps? I found it hard to believe and yet if there was a chance it was the case I had to see more. With a frustrated sigh I pulled my hand away from my privates and looked accusingly at the statue, now restless. I kept thinking over the nightmare I had, recalling the moment Marsyas had thrust into me. I tried to remember the sensation as his cock tore through me.

Had it been painful or pleasurable?

xxxxx

Work proved to be a torment the next day.

I worked as a secretary for an accountancy firm, spending hours every day behind the same desk with the same people. I struggled to get much done, tired and still horny I spent most of the day zoning out with thoughts of the nightmare I had. The more I played it over the more I felt the urge to gaze at the statue again, admiring the satyr and his extraordinary endowment. I was in a foul mood as a result and people kept well away.

It did not help being sat across from Michelle, the one who had recommended Kilili to me. She was an incessant speaker, and when she wasn’t stealthily texting him she would go on and on about what she and Derek had done last night. From what I gathered she spent most of it wrapped around his manhood. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was Kilili’s potion or the tight sweaters she had begun wearing.

Somehow I made it to the end of the day and I rushed home. I had dinner, bathed again and found myself meditating and uttering my devotion to the statue again, as I had that morning. I had an early night and was anxious to see what would be in my dreams that night.

I was to wake unbearably horny and disappointed, having had the same nonsensical dreams that I usually have, with Marsyas in none of them. Still I managed to hold off pleasuring myself, I recited the devotion before going to work to endure another day.

This went on for the next two or three days, with each day becoming more and more difficult for me. My aching loins were driving me mad, it was only exacerbated with Michelle droning on about what she and her new partner had got up to the previous night. I grew acutely aware of the men in the office watching me walk by when they thought I would not notice, catching glances of my rear. I began to wish one of them would just bend me over their desk and fuck me, but of course I said nothing. I had been aware of their glances before, and used it to my advantage, now I found myself wanting them to look and more. All this yet no dreams of the satyr came, but I found myself curiously addicted to meditating upon the figurine. Infuriating as it was I decided to keep going until the end of the week, if there was still no sign I would treat myself to a bottle of wine before either picking up a guy at a bar or pleasuring myself silly.

It was on the Friday when things took a strange turn. I was called into my boss’ office, I closed the door. The blinds were drawn to allow for privacy and I took a seat when offered. He was not particularly handsome, but as a manager I rarely had issue with him. As I sat there I zoned out again, barely taking him in. Even as he began berating me for my attitude that week, the result of restless slumber, all I could really think of was cock. Not Marsyas’ cock particularly but cock in general. Thick, twitching shafts that could pound me and bring me the relief I sorely needed. “What have you to say for yourself?” I snapped back and realized my boss awaited my reply.

Enough, I could stand it no longer. “Shut up.” I snarked, then rose, keeping my eyes locked with his. I unzipped my trousers and pulled them down along with my thong, pulling them off along with my shoes into a messy heap. I was both terrified and relieved to be acting in such a way. I rounded his desk and placed myself over it, offering full view of my behind to him, “Fuck me, please just fuck me. I can’t stand it.”

Terrible silence for a while. Then I heard him speak quietly, “I always knew you were garbage, Julia.” I heard him unzip his own trousers and felt his throbbing member press against my anus. “Even when I hired you, I knew it.” I heard and felt him spit on me.

Before I could tell him to go in my other hole he thrust deep into my ass and began pounding with desperate speed, knowing we could be discovered at any moment. I was beyond caring at that point, I found myself glad to have a cock in me, even if it was anal. He slapped me and spoke again, “Utter garbage, say it.”

“Yes,” I moaned, “I am garbage. Whatever, just fuck me.” He did just that, drilling my ass until he spasmed and ejaculated inside me.

Breathing heavily, he fell back into his chair, “We shall have another performance review on Monday, make sure you are not late.”

Far from content, I reclaimed my garments and began dressing myself. I stopped as I picked up my underwear first, recalling Kilili’s demand. That does it, I thought, I’m going out tonight to find a man to do me silly. I tossed my thong at my boss, “A memento.” Then I got dressed and returned to my desk, giving my best performance of one who had just been disciplined.

xxxxx

“Oh fuck!” I screamed as the drunkard I brought home with me rammed my ass. I did not want it there again, I needed him in my pussy. Yet it felt so good somehow that I could not bring myself to resist. I found myself weak at the knees and willing. He jack-hammered my behind and finished fast before staggering for the exit to get to his girlfriend, who had just texted him seeking his whereabouts.

Annoyed, drunk and tired I desisted from resorting to my hand and collapsed on my bed, letting myself fall into a slumber. I could always go out again tomorrow.

Love’s Core:

I was in the dim warehouse again. I could sense him creeping in the shadows.

No tense silence this time however, the sound of panpipes filled the room, despite my fear I could not help but admire the tune. It filled me with a strange giddiness, the sort one sometimes feels when drinking wine. The music made me want to dance, but my body remained implacable in its position. Nonetheless I wanted to see the player of the wondrous tune, even if it was the shaggy creature. Although I knew what would follow I yearned to see his cock again for my mind was still swimming with lust.

I noticed something hanging from a hook which dangled from a chain in the ceiling. At first I thought it a cloak, the way it hanged, fur-lined, gave that impression. But as I looked more closely my giddiness at once left me.

It was his skin.

Hooked through the opening that was the mouth, the skin of the head folded back to regard me with eyeless holes, the flesh sagged so that it gave an impression of pain. A long flap of flesh reached to the floor. Marsyas emerged from the shadows then, regarding me with a cadaverous grimace. I failed to scream again as I beheld the grotesque. Wet sounds accompanied the clopping as he advanced on me, his flayed body red and shining. Even his erect cock was missing its skin. I futilely fought to move and flee again, even as my loins grew moist for what was to come.

Sticky hands seized my thighs, leaving red stains. The horned horror gave a bestial moan as he forced himself into me. My body shuddered as it struggled to take it all. As before, I felt his phallus burst through my womb and up into my innards, both pain and orgasmic relief flooded my senses.

xxxxx

We were all growing concerned with Michelle, as her friend it seemed to be left to me to do something.

I emerged from my boss’s office after yet another meeting, my ass feeling pleasantly sore. I had never really been keen on anal, but in my state then there was little I wouldn’t do. It was becoming a daily theme now, I go into his office at least once a day to ‘help’ him with his minutes, or reviews, etc. Other staff whispered how I had become the teacher’s pet, if only they knew.

After the latest nightmare I decided to press on. Insane you may think but once I awoke in the safety of my room I found myself fascinated by what seemed to be happening. Much like watching a good horror movie (of which there are few). I did not sleep the rest of that night, waking up madly horny now. Instead I meditated on the statue once more, and found myself thanking him aloud for visiting me. Although the need for orgasm was intense, I assumed anal was allowed since he still visited my nightmares. As such I used that to provide me some meager measure of relief.

Plus I found I could not stop thinking about that skinless horror. Even when I wasn’t I was thinking of cock in general, watching each man that passed me and envisioning how he would look in me. Oh god I needed fucking so bad! You know you do when thoughts of a bloody goat-man impaling you on his member starts to send a thrill through you.

I sat down opposite Michelle, feeling warm semen leaking form me. I prayed it would not show through my tight trousers. Michelle was glum and silent as she had been the past few days. No longer did she prattle on about Derek, no longer did she speak much at all. She was dressed ridiculously now. Before she had always dressed professionally, a smart blouse and jacket, long skirt, that sort of thing. But since her nights with Derek she dressed sluttier and sluttier. Today she wore a tube top and a skirt so short her laced knickers were clearly visible. Combined with her fishnets it’s a wonder strangers did not offer her money on the street. Her face was filled with cosmetics, yet it did not hide the dark circles under her eyes. I decided to confront her at last, “Okay ‘chelle’, what’s the matter? Something is clearly wrong.”

Michelle looked up at me with red rimmed eyes, then burst into tears.

It was so unexpected I could only gawp for a moment. Aware that other colleagues were peering at us over their monitors I swiftly took Michelle by the arm and led her outside to the smoking area. I spent a few moments trying to soothe her, pressing a hot cup of coffee into her hand. Once she took a few sips she seemed to recover slightly. She gazed at me miserably, her face streaked with running mascara, “Oh Juli, I’m a walking cum-dumpster.”

I frowned, “You’ll have to explain that.”

“That bitch of a witch.” She hissed, “She tricked me. There is no love between me and Derek, no true relationship. All we ever did is fuck, like I’m his personal whore. I should have known when she sneered at me, when she tried to tell me that the core of love is lust. That potion of hers, it just made us randy for eachother. Worse, it’s made me obsessed. I can’t stop thinking about his cock, I can’t stand not having him in me. Derek though, he refuses to see me, said he didn’t like what we were becoming. I haven’t seen him for three nights now, he won’t answer my calls. I want him to make me his slut so badly. Oh Juli I can’t stand it, I just want to go back to normal.”

I hadn’t told Michelle I went to see Kilili myself, but thinking of my own experiences with one of her products I was inclined to believe her. Refraining from revealing my own visit, I said as such and asked why she had not sought Kilili for some kind of reversal. She wailed despairingly, “I tried! Every time I go to that fucking bookshop the closed sign is displayed and the doors are locked. I’m not sure if it is even open anymore.”

I considered, “Then I’ll go, and break the door down if need be. Come on, I’ll ask the boss to let me take you home. A good night’s rest will help.”

xxxxx

I stood outside the bookstore, an old structure with timber framing, painted black. Gold lettering made up the sign ‘Babel Books’ with a studious owl illustrated beside it. I had never really taken in the building before. I had lived in the town for years, how long had this bookstore been here? The paintwork looked fairly fresh. If it is new what had been here before? Surely I would have heard of a character like Kilili before if she had been here long. Still, that did not really matter right now.

Sure enough a sign saying closed hung on the door. In fairness I went after work and it had just gone five, so it could technically be seen as after hours. Determined to help my friend though I rapped the door loudly. Receiving no answer, I did it several times, to no avail.

Annoyed, I risked trying the handle. There was as soft click and, to my surprise, the door opened. Sheepishly, I stepped in, calling out.

Receiving no answer, I quietly closed the door behind me and looked about. As before books were lined everywhere. There was not a sign of the store owner however. I started when I made out a thumping noise upstairs, occurring at regular intervals. Steeling myself, determine to find a cure for whatever poison she had given Michelle I opened the door at the far end and took the stairs to the rooms above.

The stairs led to a hallway with dim lighting. The sound was louder up here, accompanied by slapping sounds and the occasional gasps. My loins twitched as I began to realize what it was. Still I made my way down. The wall was lined with artwork, some I recognized. Madonna, by Munch. Olympia, by Manet. Odalisque, by Tanoux. There were others that were familiar but I did not recognize. They were not prints but actual paintings. Recreations perhaps? I continued on until I reached the source of the noise.

The door was ajar. Candlelight spewed from the gap along with the scent of incense. I peeked inside and felt my legs tremble with embarrassment and want.

Kilili was on all fours, upon her large bed, being taken doggy style by a man. As before I found myself strangely transfixed by the sight of her. As her breasts swung and the bed rocked loudly with every entry into her vulva. I was both envious of her for managing to get the relief I so craved and envious of the man for delighting in such a strangely beautiful creature. I heard Kilili moan, then speak abruptly, “Wait. Wait!” Confused, the man ceased. Kilili looked over her shoulder straight at me, “This is a holy room Julia. If you want to come in remove your clothing first.”

I amazed myself with my own obedience. I slipped out of my garments, feeling lewd and liberated., then stepped in. I was awed by the bedroom. There was what I could only describe as a shrine on one side, a black marble pedestal with all sorts of trinkets upon it. The center of attention was a clay plaque, depicting a winged naked woman standing upon two lions, owls to either side of her. Several scented candles burned there along with incense around it. Hanging from one corner of the pedestal was my pink thong, exchanged for the statue of Marsyas. “You still have my underwear?”

“Of course, it represents the price you paid to be with Marsyas.” I turned to see Kilili striding toward me, the man on the bed looking impatient. I looked over Kilili’s naked frame with admiration. My ass is my best feature, it is what draws the men. As such I learned to exploit that part of me when dressing for nights out. I could only dream of having the voluptuous figure that Kilili enjoyed, a figure that drives men mad. She surprised me by crushing her body against mine and kissing me passionately. A wonderful feeling flushed through me, making me light-headed. When she broke away she gazed at me with her green eyes, “Now get on the altar.”

Somehow I knew she meant the bed. Seeing the man with his erect cock waiting there I found myself obliging. A painting of a woman enwrapped by a snake hung over it, I registered this briefly before crawling on, the black and scarlet sheets soft beneath my touch. Kilili seated herself in a chair nearby, picking up and sipping a nearby glass filled with a white fluid. I dared not ask what it was. Michelle. I was there for Michelle. “What have you done to Michelle?”

She ignored me, looking at the man, “Wreck her womb.” She commanded. I gasped when I felt him slide into my rectum. “I said her womb.” Kilili ordered, her sensuous voice brooking no disobedience. I felt him leave me, only to take me up the ass again. My knees went weak from the feeling of him delving into me. Kilili laughed, “One more try.” Sure enough the same thing happened. The man laughed as well now, giving up he began to pound into me. Kilili sipped from her glass again and leaned forwards, “You have progressed wonderfully Julia, I am envious.”

“What’s happening to me?” Michelle was forgotten now, “Why can’t he do me there?”

Kilili shrugged, “Because that entry belongs to your lover Marsyas of course. I am so glad I could unite you both again.”

“Again?” I moaned as I felt the man step up his tempo.

“Keep up the devotions Julia, I promise you will not regret it. I know it is hard, but you will experience such wonders as a result.”

Before I could reply I felt warm seed flood my rectum. I shuddered as he pulled out of me, I fell to the bed, still facing Kilili, “This is unbearable.”

“Yet wonderful. Agony and ecstasy as one. Few sensations can compare.” Kilili rose and stood over me, the man left the room to dress and leave. “You did not give me your underwear for that statue Julia, you gave me your dignity. The more you follow through with your reaching for Marsyas, the more shameless you become. The more you eliminate your ego the closer to you he shall be.”

I forced myself to sit up, I looked at her in stupor, “What are you?”

“Now that,” Kilili sat beside me and kissed my cheek, filling me with warmth, “Is something you are not ready for. I would love to spend the night dallying with you, telling you of the things I have done and will do, but I have several more ‘devotees’ lined up tonight and I am thirsty.”

I was powerless for her. I found myself getting change outside the ‘holy’ room and walking back home. Once I got in I looked at the statue, the sight setting me alight again. Somewhere along the line I found myself longing for the grotesque and his monstrous member. I recalled Kilili’s shrine and suddenly found my bedside cabinet less than worthy of him. That would have to change. I recalled reading about the crusades once, how pilgrims made certain vows to show their dedication. A perverse idea came to me as I thought of Kilili’s words.

I stripped myself down to my thong. I lit candles and incense. I meditated on Marsyas and uttered the devotion. I smiled when I thought I could hear the distant sound of panpipes. His presence was with me, I was sure. I stood, pulled my thong down and cast it away. I made my vow, “To show my love for you, Marsyas, I promise never to use underwear again, that my holes shall always be ready for you when you want me. Truly, truly, truly.” It sounded ridiculous, yet I sensed approval somewhere, thought the sound of panpipes grew more clear for just a moment. I only wished I could promise never to wear anything, but reality kept me in check there.

I smiled and kissed the statue, both his face and his cock. I was still painfully horny yet I felt better now, sensed I was attaining something. I went to bed and hoped the strange satyr would visit once more.

 

The Dancer:

Michelle did not come to work the next week. As her absence went by people grew more and more concerned. As her closest friend they asked me to check on her. I grudgingly did so, but she did not answer her door, the lights out as if no one was in. I was in a poor mood still. If my boss was not doing me each day I am sure I would have been fired by then. I had asked Marsyas for help with Michelle, speaking to the figurine as though it were alive. I received no answer, that combined with the lack of visitations in my dreams frustrated me. I screamed at it and covered it, determined to have nothing more to do with the strange rituals I had been performing. But soon enough my body would draw me to him again, my loins no longer responding to my fingers when I finally aimed to relieve myself.

Eventually the boss called everyone together and announced that Michelle had sent him a letter of resignation, that she was moving to be with her family. That seemed to allay everyone’s fears but I was far from convinced.

That night I tried Michelle’s home again, and as before no one answered. Despondent and angry that I cannot escape my addiction to Marsyas, I went on a walk rather than return home. No doubt subconsciously led by my throbbing vulva, my feet took me to the seedier part of town. Whores walked here and there, trying to hook passersby, thankfully ignoring me. I stopped short when I saw who I thought to be Michelle entering a strip club, wearing nothing beyond her lingerie. No sooner had I seen her than she entered and was gone from sight.

Swiftly I went there, the doorman giving me a strange look as I paid for entry. I entered a suffocating room filled with a mixture of men. Some lonely, some rich, some celebrating. All of them horny. A woman danced around a pole to some mundane pop music, dressed in a gold bikini. All eyes were on her if not the bar. I ignored both and sought for Michelle, I made out the door to the backstage and approached the bouncer guarding it.

“Pass please.” He grunted.

I bit my lip, “I don’t work here. Did a woman just enter, I know her by the name Michelle.” The bouncer said nothing, just looked at me grimly, “Please, I’m a friend of hers. It’s important.”

He just stared at me a moment more. A silent contest of wills took place until his gaze broke from mine, “Ten minutes, tops.” He said opening the door. “I don’t know what’s wrong with that crazy bitch, were she not so popular she would have been kicked out long ago.”

Giving my thanks I scuttled in, the door closing behind me. I walked down the corridor and entered a changing room where several girls chatted and tried various scanty costumes. One who was in between bras looked at me, “You new here?”

I shook my head, “Michelle, is she here?”

She tutted, “Further down love. She’s on next, wish I knew her secret.”

I continued on until I managed to find my way behind the curtains. Sure enough Michelle was there, getting ready, dressed in lingerie that hid little. Her eyes widened when she saw me, “What are you doing here Juli?”

“Looking for you. You are a stripper now?”

She clutched her hands, suppressing a sob, “No, I’m a prostitute. I dance to make up funds. It’s the only relief I have Juli. If I close my eyes and think hard enough I can pretend the client is Derek. I can’t help myself, all I can see when I close my eyes is his cock waiting to be in me. Worst of all are the whispers I sometimes hear.”

I suddenly regretted not doing more for her, I should not have let Kilili distract me so. “Whispers?”

“Yes.” She drew closer, conspiratorial, “They say I’m an excellent jizz-toilet. That I must continue on my path. That even greater things await me. I hate myself, when they call me such names and promise me such things I feel a horrible excitement. I can’t bear it.” She looked at me hopefully, “Did you see the witch?”

Guilt wracked me, “She was not in.”

Michelle sniffed, “Then I am lost. Thank you Juli, you’re the only friend I have.” She leaned forwards to embrace me, then paused, “Oh god, you’re one of them.”

Taken aback, I reached for her, “There, there, we’ll find a way.”

She shrieked and pushed me away, “Don’t touch me. You are one of them, I see it now. You all conspired to make me this way. Stay away from me, stay away!” With that she ran from the building. I never saw her again after that.

The bouncer called after her, then came at me, “What did you do bitch! She is meant to be on next.”

I barely heard him over the sound of pan pipes that began playing. The dismay I felt at Michelle’s plight was washed away with the joyous music. I suddenly wanted to dance. I realized what I was to do. “Well.” I said, pulling my clothes off, “I guess you will have to make do with me.”

“Woah now, we may not be the classiest joint but you can’t just…” I walked to the stage, “Wait, at least choose a costume. You can’t go on naked straight off!”

That was precisely what I did. Lecherous cheers greeted me as I strode to the pole, the music only I could hear suffusing me. I looked into the crowd and fancied I could see an ethereal shadow walking among them. I smiled, Marsyas was with me, luring me. I ignored the tune coming from the speakers and danced to Marsyas’ tune. I threw myself around the pole with ease. I imagined it was his manhood. That I was using my body to tease it, caress it, bring it to erection that it may pierce me. I danced to the tune, led by the demand of my aching vulva.

All too soon the music ended. Recalling nothing of what I had been doing, I returned from my trance to see the crowd watching me reverently. Silence ensued for a heartbeat before they broke into raucous applause. My body was covered in sweat, my thighs slick with my juices, I had to spend a moment to catch my breath before bowing and retreating back behind the curtains.

The bouncer came again, accompanied by a short, portly man who gabbled at me excitedly, “Missy, I don’t know who you are but if you want a job here you have it.”

I grinned. Making a living, dancing naked to Marsyas’ tune each night? How could I refuse?

 

The Bacchant:

If my great grandfather the emperor could only see me now.

Naked for all to see, I placed the corona upon the statue of Marsyas. With this statement made against him and his favored god Apollo, the revelries upon the Forum began. I seated myself beneath the statue of my love and watched it all unfold.

Wine and music flowed aplenty, as did semen. I watched my friend take men in either side of her, I watched one of the musicians continue playing even as a woman wrapped her lips around his cock. Sure enough they came to me also and I obliged, I sucked and slobbered over their cocks like a common diabolares before offering my backside to them. As ever some unseen force guided their phalluses into my rectum, depriving me of any release. Is that Kilili being threshed on the banquet table? I smiled when I saw it was so. It was to her I came when seeking some means of spiting my great grandfather. Her answer had been so obvious I wondered why I had not thought of it. Seek guidance from the one who opposed the emperor’s favored god. So I did, coming to this statue daily to ask for aid.

I followed Kilili’s difficult instructions, it had been torture to not lay with a man in the usual manner, giving myself relief from my wants. During my most desperate nights I began whoring myself beside the statue, who did not want to do one of the august family? It was then I realized they could not cool the heat in my loins, in time I no longer wanted them to. My womb is for Marsyas alone to ruin. Tonight, with me pinned to his phallus, I shall enter the realm of the gods and challenge Apollo’s stifling order.

Some of the public see us and flee in horror. Bacchanalia’s are now illegal thanks to my great grandfather, soon the guards will come. Time is of the essence.

Eventually I am free from pleasuring men, they wander off to continue the festivities elsewhere on the Forum. I lean against Marsyas’ statue and watch, hearing panpipes and sensing a great presence approaching. I watch as the thick smoke of incense begins to coalesce into a form, recognizing my horned love, I approach gleefully.

People gasp in fear as they see the smoky figure lift me up as though I weighed no more than a feather. I feel the grip of his hands on my thighs as I had done in so many nightmares. I titter in excitement as I feel the tip of his great phallus begin to press against my wet and eager labia. At last! I have wanted this for so long. He will wear my like his skin, skewering me and taking me to his realm, letting me lose myself to the ecstasy of it. I feel him press against me harder, yes, that’s it! Do it!

Screams resound. Guards march in and begin suppressing the revelers. The force holding me disperses and I fall unceremoniously to the ground. No! I was so close. I am his. I am meant to be his. I screech at them and they force me down and bind me. As they drag me away I wail pitifully toward the statue, begging Marsyas to return and impale me.

xxxxx

To the confusion of everyone, I handed in my letter of resignation and left without notice. Thinking it was related to him, my boss dared not challenge me. I instead danced each night and, yes, even whored myself. I sensed Marsyas approved of my shamelessness and I began to welcome the taste of a man’s phallus before it entered my ass. I saw it as preparation, getting my ready for the brutal fucking Marsyas would give me.

All I can say about such a life is, I only wish I had let go of my dignity before! I was amazed at the money I made from dancing alone. Far more than I had ever earned behind a desk. Michelle never returned nor did I continue seeking her. I sensed we were both on our own paths now, albeit toward a similar destination. Each night without fail the music would come, Marsyas would be with me, sending me into my trance and leaving me wet with longing.

After my recent dream as some participant in an orgy it occurred to me to do some research on Marsyas. I came across the myth of his confrontation with Apollo, explaining his flayed appearance. To humor myself I did a search with his and my name together and was surprised by the results. It revealed the scandal of an emperor of Rome’s relation, seeking to undermine him via perverse rites. Whilst I have read a lot of history books, this was the first time I encountered this. The scandal was mentioned briefly in many texts but rarely in much detail. Now I know why.

His presence was strong and constant now. Often I would make out his shadowy figure in the corner of my eye. Yes, the time was close. Soon he would manifest and take me to his realm, where he would do all manner of horrid things to me. I could hardly wait.

To the sound of yet more entertained customers, I returned backstage and froze when I saw Kilili there. I could not help but smile to see the beauty, clothed in a mini-dress that was nigh transparent. The bouncer I now knew as Reggie accompanied her, but he seemed in a stupor, as if enthralled by witch. “Hello Kilili. What brings you here?”

Her smile made my heart beat faster, “A certain skinless satyr tells me he will be soon wearing you as his cock-sleeve for the next eternity or so. I thought I’d give my congrats, you lucky whore.”

I blushed at the compliment. Some part of me knew I should be terrified at what was happening, but it was far outweighed by the excitement the prospect of it gave me. ” Yes, I can’t wait.”

“A favor if I may?” she asked, “When he does finally skewer you, write about your journey to him before you go? I have a… secret library if you will. It’s where I keep works detailing the stories of people like you and me. Would you do that?”

I thought about it, “I’ll try. I am not sure if I will be able focus once he’s in me. But I will try.”

“That’s all I ask.” She turned, “Come Reggie, I think you need to finish early. I am thirsty.”

“Yes mam.” He said uncertainly, stumbling drunkenly after her.

 

The Lovers:

I wander the island Tremirus, my body an agony for me. Always under guard, I did my best to seduce them but the emperor had chosen his most loyal men. I spent my days and nights calling and seeking for any sign of Marsyas, but I sense nothing. Still my loins do not react to my fingers, and I am deprived of men now, even if my mind flits with images of their phalluses. I beg them to send requests for my release, when these are rejected I beg for at least a figure depicting Marsyas. This too falls on deaf ears.

One day I come across a hunk of onyx. Carefully I tuck it away and secret it to my bedroom. There at night, by the light of a candle and with dull eating implements I chisel away at it. I am no expert sculptor but thoughts of Marsyas fill my skull, depriving me of no detail of him. Rather than skinless I carve him as he was before Apollo punished him so cruelly. Handsome, strong and with a thick shaft that was meant to tear its way through me. It takes months and many ruined cutlery pieces but eventually I am happy with it.

There I hide it and call for him through it deep into the night, done futilely for he never answers. For years every night I try and receive nothing.

Eventually, seeing how aged I am I give in and bury the figure. Despairing and downtrodden, I lie in my bed and flee this mortal realm.

xxxxx

I wake in my bed, feeling that same despair I had felt in the dream. But with it is hope. For a moment I saw a dark figure looming over me. I smiled, I had been given another chance, and tonight I would succeed where I had failed all those centuries ago.

I rise and bathe myself, before applying my best make up. I want to look my best when he comes to wreck me. I switch off the fire alarm and light a dangerous amount of incense and candles. I place the statue of Marsyas upon an expensive altar I had custom built, depicting satyrs doing perverse things to women. I shiver with trepidation and excitement for what is to come.

I hear the panpipes playing even as I call for him loudly. Over and over I recite the devotion, begging him to come and claim me at last. Over and over I say it, like a mantra. The music fills me with perverse joy and I feel my loins burn in readiness. I begin to see shapes in the smoke, cavorting figures locked together in obscene positions. I start to hear the ecstatic screams along with the music. Yes, the veil between his world and mine is weakened.

I feel a large presence looming behind me and I know it is him. I look up and there he is, leering down at me with his skinless face oozing. I feel his phallus smearing my back and I smile, finally ready to be his whore.

With a strong but clammy grip he lifts me by my thighs, making me whoop in delight. I then moan with need as I feel the tip of him brush and press against my sex. Yes, oh yes! Please, do it this time. Skewer me and make me yours.

He rams into me.

I gasp as he bursts through my womb and into my insides, the head stopping next to my beating heart. I orgasm violently, unceasingly, I am lost to the agony and ecstasy of it. I want it to never end. Yes, this is where I belong, this is what I am. Through me he thrusts and I, my body having changed to accept him, survive and revel in the sensation. The feeling of orgasm never ends, even as he fills my ruptured body with his seed. I sense the veil between our worlds thickening again, this time I would remain with my love Marsyas. But I reach up with a shaking hand to touch his open cheek, bidding him to wait.

I promised Kilili afterall.

xxxxx

Are you reading this Kilili? Are you satisfied?

It takes a monumental effort to write this I assure you, to type away, recalling the events that led to my delicious downward spiral even as my beloved Marsyas thrusts through me. I trust it is you who will find this, you seem the resourceful kind.

It is the least I can do to thank you. How many times have I come back over the centuries I wonder? A deep part of me calling for my love Marsyas to come claim me. I suppose it no longer matters, you brought us together Kilili, and my twitching, ruined loins thank you for it.

The veil thickens. And now I go, to dwell in the twisted realms where the darkest of imaginations linger…

 

Editor’s Note:

Reading this I am sweet Julia, and with envious loins I do retype this into more coherent form. Naturally you are forgiven for the frantic way you have written, filled with grammatical errors and nonsensical lines. It is to be expected when you have a demigod fucking you.

I saw you, you know. With my lilitu eyes I can see both realms. As I was satiating my thirst with my latest client I saw you, impaled and pointing at your pink thong, laughing. I knew then you were his at long last and could barely contain my joy, let alone my excitement. For I knew you would not have come had you not seen to my request. I quickly finished with my devotee and made for your apartment.

I know where you dwelled of course, I watched you at your adorations with much admiration. With anxiety too, for whilst you could not, I could see Marsyas’ form hungrily pacing around you, trying hard to reach you through the obscuring cloak that keeps us separated. I feared many a time that you would not manage it.

I enter your apartment naked, it is a holy place now and I dare not sully it with shame. The incense and candles have since died. I smell blood and sweat and semen and it flares my thirst anew. I would have to seek several men once done tonight. I see the dull glow of the computer monitor to one side and smile when I read your work. I hit the print that I may take it home and rework it before posting it online. Of course I shall add a hard copy to my collection also. Many people do not see it but sooner or later that data flying through cables and air and light will cease and much that had been taken for granted will be lost. Hence the need for keepers like me, hence the importance of struggling bookstores.

As I rise to leave, hungering for a man, I see the magnificent altar you had made and the warped statue of Marsyas. I say warped for it is much changed now. No longer the smiling, hairy satyr, he is a grimacing, skinless creature playing the pipes whilst having a woman impaled upon him. The woman has a curious expression for her fate, a mixture of both agony and joy. I find the change pleasing to my lilitu tastes. What a lucky slut you are Julia!

Carefully I pick up the statue and bring it with me, to be kept safe with other such relics I have acquired over the centuries.

Once done, I shall go see how your friend Michelle is progressing…

THE END